


Pull the Switch Inside My Head

by diana_lucifera



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (I mean they won't bang until like halfway through so.), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Universe, Colors au, Kylo Ren redemption arc, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burnish, knightpilotweek, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7231471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diana_lucifera/pseuds/diana_lucifera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Jakku, Kylo Ren looked into his soulmate’s eyes for the first time and his world went into color. Two years later, he’s living a lackluster existence as a prisoner on the Resistance base, and Poe Dameron still hasn’t seen his face. If Kylo has anything to do with it, he never will. But when the two are sent on a mission to an ancient Jedi temple, Kylo is forced to face the mistakes of his past and choose his future - and whether Poe will be part of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Knight Erring

**Author's Note:**

> Aside from the whole soulmates thing, the events of the film happened in exactly the same way. The title is from [“Colors” by Grouplove](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPSZygOrf8U). Inspired by [this post](http://poefinnrey.tumblr.com/post/142254614924/so-i-havent-done-this-a-while-but-im-thinking) by poefinnrey on Tumblr.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [trashsonkylo.tumblr.com](http://trashsonkylo.tumblr.com)

A long time ago, someone had painted the chrome ceiling of the Resistance base’s medbay a soft blue, but it had long since begun to crack and flake away. Spots of gray blotted the ceiling like gathering storm clouds. Kylo lay on his back and traced the familiar patterns to distract himself as the hypo injected Force suppressant serum into his arm with a sharp hiss. 

He stifled a shudder at the sensation of ice-cold liquid slinking through his veins. Even after seven months of injections, he still wasn’t used to the feeling. The effects began almost instantaneously. He pinched his eyes shut as a spike of pain lanced through his mind. His body felt heavy, that prickling, staticky feeling returning to his limbs. The pain in his head settled into its usual low, constant pounding.

"Procedure complete," the medi-droid announced. 

Kylo sat up on the exam table, and the droid stepped backward with a distressed whir at the sudden movement. Kylo glowered at it as he rubbed at his sore arm. 

"Your discomfort is temporary," the droid said. It took a further step back. "Please remain calm." 

Kylo growled. He kicked the wall next to the med-droid and felt far too satisfied when it made a high-pitched, bleating noise of alarm before it wheeled around and fled the room. 

Doctor D’Paht came through the door almost immediately, a smile on her crimson face. "Harassing my droids again, Mr. Solo?" the Zeltron asked pleasantly, holding up her datapad, which showed Kylo’s picture overlaid with the words "PATIENT HOSTILE" in blinking red letters. 

"They’re prejudiced against me." Kylo crossed his arms in a mock display of petulance. 

D’Paht chuckled. "Can you blame them?" she asked. She swiped a finger across the pad to banish the alert. "Droids have memories, too."

"It was _one time,_ " Kylo protested. He didn’t think it was fair to even blame him for that. The medi-droid incident had been a long time ago, after he’d betrayed Supreme Leader Snoke and been dragged bleeding and bruised to the Resistance base and thrust into a cell. "If you were in my position, you wouldn’t have responded any better to being injected with who knows what."

Honestly, Kylo thought, they were lucky he’d only ripped apart the droid and not the terrified junior doctor accompanying it. 

He quickly banished that thought from his mind, grateful that D’Paht’s limited telepathic abilities weren’t strong enough to catch him mentally justifying dismemberment. One of the reasons Kylo liked her was that, unlike most of the people he interacted with, she wasn’t afraid of him. Or at least, if she was, she didn’t show it. 

D’Paht sat down across from him, winding her blood red hair into an efficient bun. That was another reason Kylo liked her. Every bit of D’Paht, from her skin to her hair to her eyes, was red. It was a ridiculous reason, but even after two years of seeing colors, something about that particular one still made him unexplainably happy.

"Well, no matter what your reasons were for what you did," the doctor said, "it will take a long time to earn that trust back. I know that’s frustrating, but it is reality." 

Kylo frowned. He had the distinct feeling that they weren’t talking about the droids anymore. He reached out instinctively to touch her mind, forgetting the serum for a moment. He flinched at the swooping sensation in his stomach as he came up short, like he’d missed a step coming down the stairs. 

D’Paht’s eyebrows drew together. "I wanted to ask you how you were doing." 

Internally, Kylo cringed. "I'm fine." He moved to stand. "Now, if we’re done here—"

"Ben," she exhaled.

Kylo grimaced. He wished people would stop calling him that, and he really wished they'd stop sounding like _that_ when they said it. The table gave a papery crunch as he sunk back down. "I'm _fine_."

D'Paht leaned forward, folding her hands together. "Doctor Jaxx says you haven’t been going to your psych evals."

Kylo’s eyes darted down to examine his knotted fingers before his training kicked in. _Head up. Don't show weakness_. He raised his chin. "I’ve been busy."

"You’ve been busy," she repeated. "For…" She swiped a finger across her datapad and whistled. "Three and a half _weeks_?"

Kylo didn’t answer.

"What have you been busy doing?" she asked, not unkindly.

He shrugged. _Training. Pacing. Waiting for orders that will never come._

D’Paht sighed. "Ben, the amount of freedom you’re given on this base is conditional on your compliance with this routine."

Kylo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Freedom was certainly an interesting way of putting being help captive in the old, underground bunker the Resistance called its temporary home. Still, he supposed it was better than the cell. At the very least, he had more leg room.

"I know that," he bit out. "Look, I’m here, aren’t I? I’m getting the shots. I’m taking those pills Jaxx insists on giving me. Does it really matter if I don’t go in twice a standard week to talk about my _feelings_?"

"You already know that answer to that. You’ve admitted that you have problems regulating your emotions, and when those feelings get out of control, you tend to—"

"Murder people?" Kylo suggested acerbically.

"— _lash out_ ," D’Paht finished. "Look, I’m aware that I’m the wrong kind of doctor to be having this discussion with you. I just wish you would talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be Doctor Jaxx. It could be a friend." 

Kylo gave her an incredulous look. "You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to."

D’Paht gave a noncommittal hum. She hesitated for a moment. "What about your soulmate? Have you been able to contact them?"

"No," Kylo snapped. "I’ve told you, I don’t want to talk about that." 

It wasn’t that Kylo didn’t understand her concern. Once a person saw their soulmate, the bond formed instantly. It was more than just a connection. It was a _need_ , an almost physical pull. Most people couldn’t stand to be away from their soulmates for a week, much less months on end.

Of course, Kylo was not “most people.” Most people wouldn’t meet their soulmate and then almost immediately torture them for information. They certainly wouldn’t spend two years suffering through a one-sided bond when their soulmate was not - as Kylo had led D’Paht to believe - on some distant planet, but right here on this very base. 

Hell, he definitely wasn’t going to tell D’Paht that. Then she’d really never leave him alone.

"There must be _someone_ you can talk to."

Kylo looked away, wearing at the skin on the inside of his lip. There wasn’t, really. Not anymore. Not since Supreme Leader Snoke had unceremoniously broken their mental connection and left Kylo floundering and lost in a sea of chaos. Not since a combination of Force suppressants and pills had left him cut off and hollowed out.

For the first time in his life, the only voice in Kylo’s head was his own. For a long time, he hadn’t even been sure which voice belonged to him. Now he knew, and the answer was disappointing. None of the voices who knew what to do had stayed behind when the Supreme Leader left.

That was why he hated talking about his feelings. There was no good way to say ‘I miss the voices in my head.’

He blew out a noisy breath. "Doctor, no matter how ‘unstable’ Jaxx keeps calling me, I can promise you that I’m not three and a half weeks away from slaughtering you all in your sleep." 

D’Paht smiled. "That’s reassuring to hear, but it isn’t what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what I feel when I talk to you."

He scowled. "Which is?"

"Fear," she answered. "Fear, anger, and a deep, deep sadness."

Kylo leaned forward. "That’s my personality you’re sensing," he said archly. "If you get rid of all that, I might as well be one of your droids."

Of course, that’s what most of the Resistance would prefer him to be, Kylo thought bitterly. A droid that could be switched on when they needed information about the First Order or Supreme Leader Snoke and then shoved in a closet when they were done with him. Things would be easier for everyone that way.

D’Paht reached out and took his hand into her own. "I think there’s more to you than you know."

Kylo raised his eyebrows. "I assure you, I know myself very well." _That’s the problem._

She shook her head. "You—"

Kylo’s comlink chirped. He retracted his hand quickly and checked the display, suppressing a sigh of relief. 

"They need me in the briefing room." He stood and snatched up his helmet, then shoved his hair out of his face and slid the mask on with a mechanical hiss. 

Doctor D’Paht watched him with pinched lips, but she didn’t bother to say anything about the helmet. Even his mother had given up trying to convince him not to wear it.

Ultimately, they were both right. If Kylo stopped wearing the mask, things would certainly go more smoothly between him and the Resistance fighters on the base. Even with the scar the scavenger had given him, his face was far from the frightening, emotionless visage of the mask. That’s why Kylo had started wearing it in the first place.

Now, he wore it for a different reason. The mask had aways been a barrier between Kylo and the rest of the world, but now, more importantly, it was a barrier between Kylo and Poe Dameron.

"Doctor D’Paht." Kylo gave the Zeltron a polite nod.

She smiled tightly. "I’ll see you next week, Ben."

He left the medbay in long, heavy strides, rolling his shoulders back as if he could shake off the experience. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his gut that could have equally been a side effect of the injection or the conversation. He banished the doctor and her questions from his mind and cast his thoughts toward the debriefing room at the end of the gray, viewportless hallway. 

They’d been calling him in more and more lately. The leaders of the Resistance liked to keep Kylo in the dark, so he wasn’t sure if that meant they were winning their war against the First Order or growing more desperate. Neither thought particularly thrilled him.

As he neared the large doors to the debriefing room, he heard voices approaching from around the corner. A loud, hearty laugh, one Kylo recognized instantly, caught his attention. Heart pounding, he fumbled with the clasps of his mask. It was as tightly secured as always. He dropped his hands and clenched them into fists to keep from fidgeting as Poe Dameron’s squadron turned the corner.

Poe's smile vanished the second he saw Kylo. His eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, his jaw set tight, before he forced the tension from his body. He tucked his hands casually in his jacket pockets, his mouth fixed in a sort of hard smirk, an expression of anxiety lacquered over with smug defiance. Kylo knew that look well. It was the first thing he’d ever seen in color.

The second was the blaster bolt Poe had aimed at his head.

"Morning," Poe said. His tone was all devil-may-care swagger despite the hard glint in his eye. Not for the first time, Kylo wished the shallow, thready bond between them was strong enough that he could see what Poe was _really_ thinking. 

Then again, maybe he’d rather not know. 

Kylo swallowed thickly. "Commander Dameron." 

He nodded at the other five pilots in greeting. They answered with pointed silence, crossed arms, and flat looks. Poe’s little droid, BB-8, rolled to a stop in front of him, his head swiveling from Poe to Kylo. He let out a series of rude-sounding bleeps.

Poe checked his chronometer. "We gotta go," he said to his squadron, nodding toward the briefing room. "Come on." 

The pilots walked past Kylo without another word. He watched them go with a frown of regret, then winced as BB-8 ran over his toes. He swore under his breath. 

_Maker_ , he hated droids.

Kylo stepped into the debriefing room and instantly froze, his stomach constricting. Besides Poe and his squadron, the only people in the room were the five leaders of the Rebellion, seated behind the large, circular holotable at the center of the room. Their grim faces glowed softly in the blue light. The sight forcibly reminded Kylo of his first time here, bound and woozy, life hanging in the balance. 

His mother looked up, her face impassive. She was dressed in what Kylo thought of as her war clothes, a utilitarian gray jumpsuit and brown vest, a blaster strapped to her waist. Her thick braid might have been wrapped around her head like a crown, but at this moment, she wasn’t a princess or even Kylo’s mother. She was General Organa, leader of the Resistance, and she would treat him accordingly.

"Ben Solo, please step forward."

Kylo fought the urge to shrink in on himself like a wayward child. He squared his shoulders and strode forward. Caught between the stony expressions of the five officers in front of him and the eyes of Poe Dameron and his squadron behind him, Kylo felt very small. That, too, was a familiar feeling, and he’d long since learned to hold his head high despite it.

He stopped in the center of the room, his arms tucked tight behind his back. "What is this about, General?"

He wracked his brain for any kind of punishable offense. Was this about the psych evals? Surely not, or else, why would the others be here? Perhaps the intel he’d given last week proved faulty. Even then, after seven standard months in captivity, of course he would be wrong _sometimes_. They must understand that.

"Yesterday," his mother said, interrupting his thoughts, "we received a message from Luke Skywalker." 

Kylo’s breath caught in his throat. He fought the urge to look around himself, as if just saying his uncle’s name would make him materialize. Several of the pilots murmured.

Leia keyed something into the control panel, and a hologram a small, mountainous planet appeared above the table. The label identified it as Asadal. "Luke sent us a map of this planet. Do you recognize it?"

Kylo shook his head reluctantly. "No."

The officers exchanged glances, and for a moment, Kylo was afraid that was it and he was going to be dismissed. Instead, Leia touched another key and a single point of light began to blink on the top of one of its mountains. 

"According to Luke’s research, this is the location of an ancient Jedi temple. Rumor has it there’s a holocron vault hidden somewhere inside."

Kylo’s eyes went wide. Even a single holocron full of ancient Jedi knowledge could change the tide of this war. Finding an entire vault was unheard of. 

"How could something like that escape the notice of the Empire?"

Major Brance looked at Leia significantly, his jaw tight. "We don’t know that it did."

She gave him a pinched look. "But of course," she enunciated, "it would be foolish not to check."

Admiral Statura nodded briskly. "Of course. Now, here’s where the difficulty lies."

He pressed a button on the holotable and the map zoomed out to reveal the surrounding systems. Kylo frowned. The planet was far into the Unknown Territories, right in the middle of First Order space. No wonder they’d asked him if he recognized it. He stepped forward to examine the hologram. 

"I’ve never operated in this area of the galaxy." 

Some of his Knights had done sweeps through there, but as they’d never discovered anything of note, Kylo had never enquired into it. Now, he cursed himself for that. 

"There’s nothing I can tell you that will help you get there."

Leia nodded. "Well, if that’s the case, it can’t be helped. I’ve already spoken to Commander Dameron, and he assures me that he will be able to get on and off the planet without any problems. Black Squadron, you will be assisting him."

Judging by the looks they exchanged, the other leaders were far less confident on this point that Kylo’s mother was. For his part, Kylo was inclined to agree with her. He’d seen Poe in action. If he said he could pull this off, Kylo believed him.

"If that’s the case, then why am I here?" 

The officers exchanged glances again.

Major Ematt cleared his throat. "Dameron may be able to get on planet, but only a Jedi can access the temple. Or at least, someone who can use the Force."

Kylo’s heart swelled hopefully. "So you want me to go."

He grinned behind his mask. Finally, something to _do_. Orders to follow. A chance to get out of this miserable, suffocating base.

"Sir! With all due respect, I have to register my objection," Karé Kun exclaimed. "How do we know he won’t make a run for it the second he leaves the base? Or worse, what if he turns the holocrons over to the First Order?"

Kylo turned to glare at her. "Well, the fact that they would kill me on sight might hinder that."

"So you say." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I still see no reason to trust you."

"I’ve been giving you information for months," Kylo snapped. "Have I lied to you yet?"

"We don’t know that you haven’t," Temmin Wexley said stubbornly. "For all we know, this whole thing has been a trick and you’re still working for Snoke!"

Kylo allowed himself a brief fantasy of using the Force to snap his neck like a twig. "Don’t be absurd," he said through gritted teeth. 

Jessica Pava stepped forward. "General, wouldn’t it be safer to let Luke Skywalker go to this temple?"

"Nonsense!" Admiral Ackbar exclaimed before Leia could answer. "Luke Skywalker is far too valuable to risk on a mission like this." 

Kylo scowled. _I’m standing right here._

Not that he was about to argue when his mission was at stake. Even still, the pilots didn’t look convinced. Maker, this almost made him miss Hux. At least then, he’d only had one person undermining him.

Leia held up a hand to silence them. "Believe me, I’ve already heard the objections. Right now, this is the best option we have."

"But—"

"Guys," Poe interrupted. "Show the general some respect, would you? If she says this is the plan, then we're doing it."

The pilots went abruptly silent, and Kylo felt an absurd wave of gratitude. He looked back at his mother. 

"If I’m going to get into this temple, I’ll need my powers back."

"We understand that. You’ll leave in five standard days. The serum should have worn off by the time you get there. As soon as you return, you’ll be given the shot again."

_If I return_ , Kylo thought. He nodded hastily. There was an expanding feeling in his chest.

"We wouldn't let you planet-side alone," Brance spoke up, as if he could sense Kylo’s excitement and wanted to dampen it. "Commander Dameron would be escorting you every step of the way."

Kylo started. He whipped his head around to stare at Poe, pulse racing. Poe smiled wryly and gave him a little wave. 

"Why?" Kylo demanded, turning back to the officers.

"I think that should be obvious," Ackbar said. "For the exact reasons Lieutenant Kun gave earlier. You—"

"No," Kylo interrupted, "I meant, why _him_?"

Poe exhaled a laugh. "Wow."

Kylo ignored him.

"We only need one pilot on the ground," Statura explained. "Dameron’s the easy choice. The rest of Black Squadron will act as backup in case things don’t go smoothly. They’ll be a jump away, in neutral territory."

"General Organa, I request that you reconsider sending Poe- Commander Dameron on this mission," L’ulo spoke up, and Kylo felt a spring of hope well up inside of him. "I would like to volunteer myself instead."

Poe laid a hand on the Duros’ shoulder. "Decision’s already made, buddy. Sorry I beat you out." He added in a louder voice: "I won’t let you down this time, ma’am."

Leia smiled softly. "You never have, Poe." She turned her attention back to Kylo who was listening with dread heavy in his stomach. "The commander will be equipped with multiple hypo-syringes of Force suppressant serum. He will also have access to your tracker signal. If you take a step out of line, he’s authorized to pull you out by any means necessary."

Kylo clenched his fists, his lip curling up. "So he’s going to be holding my leash."

His mother smirked. "Consider him an accountability partner."

"Of course, you have a choice," Major Brance spoke up. "If you don’t like the mission parameters, we won't force you to go."

Kylo paused, his eyebrows drawing together. He titled his head to the side.

Brance and Ackbar exchanged another look, one he couldn’t understand. Leia watched them with crossed arms and a downturned mouth.

"You’re not a soldier, Ben," Brance said. "You can say no."

Kylo narrowed his eyes. He examined the man’s face carefully but couldn’t find any deceit there. He glanced slowly behind him. Poe was watching him expectantly, his arms crossed tight. Kylo fought the urge to reach up and check the clasp on his mask.

"Why don’t we give him twenty-four standard hours to think about it?" Brance suggested.

His mother opened her mouth then shut it again. She let a breath out through her nose. 

"That should be fine."

Kylo shook his head adamantly. "I don’t need twenty-four hours." 

_I’m ready to complete my mission_ , he wanted to say, but Poe’s eyes were hot on his back and that knot of dread twisted sharply in his stomach. He felt sick with it. He had an overwhelming feeling that he was on a precipice and this was the step that could ruin everything. Something held him there at the edge. Instincts, he thought. Maybe even a premonition.

"Perhaps an hour," he ventured, "to meditate on the task at hand." That seemed neutral enough.

"Take it," Leia said, "and report to me when you’re done."

"Yes, General."

His mother nodded efficiently. "You’re dismissed."

Kylo bowed purely out of habit. He turned, avoiding the pilots’ gazes, and swept out of the room. Once out in the hallway, he pressed a palm against his straining chest, sucking in a series of shallow breaths. He shook his head, ashamed of his own weakness. This was the first mission he’d had since he’d left the Supreme Leader, and he had balked like a Padawan. Surely, there was a deeper reason for his misgivings. 

Doctor D’Paht was right. He did need to talk to someone.


	2. Family Counsel

"Grandfather, I need your guidance. Show me what to do."

The hollow eyepits of Darth Vader’s helmet stared blankly back at him. Its shattered vocoder hung open like a gaping mouth with a jagged set of teeth. Kylo reached out with a bare, tentative hand and traced the crown of its head. The warped durasteel was cool under his fingertips.

There was no spark of feeling, no torrent of images, no rush of emotion. Yet again, Grandfather remained silent.

Kylo’s chair creaked as he slumped backward. He didn’t know why he’d thought this time would be any different. The visions from his grandfather’s mask had been few and far between before, but since he’d left the Supreme Leader, he hadn’t had a single one.

It had to be the serum. That, more than anything, was an incentive to go on this mission. Reaching out to his grandfather from an ancient Jedi temple would be the equivalent of screaming his name into the fabric of the universe. If Grandfather didn’t answer his call there, it would mean—

Well, it would mean he didn’t want to.

Kylo couldn’t escape that niggling suspicion. His grandfather’s power was great. Surely he could still reach Kylo if he desired it. Perhaps he was ignoring Kylo’s pleas in order to teach him a lesson.

Or perhaps Grandfather was just as disgusted with him as Kylo was with himself.

After all, Darth Vader would never be in this position. He had been everything Kylo wasn’t and strove to be: committed, in control, never wavering. Even in his one moment of weakness, Vader had still managed to destroy the most powerful Sith Lord in history.

Kylo hung his head. He didn’t have the strength to kill his own master. If the Supreme Leader appeared before him right now, Kylo wouldn’t even trust himself not to crawl back to him like a kicked dog. It was pathetic.

He glanced at the chrono on his desk. His standard hour was almost gone.

"Grandfather, I know I’ve disappointed you. I’ve been weak. I’ve been a fool, but that’s why I need you now more than ever. After all these months, I finally have the opportunity to _do_ something, but I don’t know what step to take to right my path."

This mission was a crucible. Handing those holocrons over to the Resistance would earn him some good will, at least. That could be the difference between life and death if they won this war. Of course, that was a pretty big ‘if,’ and in the more likely event that the First Order won and found out that Kylo had been more collaborator than captive, he was a dead man.

Oh, who was he trying to fool? If the First Order got to him, he’d a dead man anyway.

That is, unless Kylo convinced Supreme Leader Snoke that he was still valuable.

If he escaped, if he returned with those holocrons in tow, maybe the Supreme Leader would take him back. Maybe he could continue his training, and everything would go back to the way it was before. That was probably what Grandfather would want from him.

But was it what Kylo wanted?

He gnawed on his thumbnail, his brow furrowed. All those questions presumed he went to Asadal to find the holocrons in the first place, but even that wasn’t set in stone.

"What’s holding me back? I need to know. Is this feeling some kind of forewarning?" His face contorted, and he spit out: "Or am I really just that much of a coward?"

The mask gazed back at him, as silent as the grave.

Kylo folded his hands together and squeezed his eyes shut. "Grandfather, if you can reach me, I’m begging you to do it now. Give me a sign. Anything."

He glared at the backs of his eyelids for several long, limping minutes, listening to the soft whir of the fan and the tick of his chrono. He tried to think past the serum, to search for any last vestige of the Force inside himself and grasp it greedily, but there was nothing there. His mind was as dark and hollow as the mask in front of him.

He ground the heels of his hands against his temples, clutched at his hair and gave it a rough tug. It didn’t help, but at least the pain eased a little of his frustration.

" _Please_." He clenched his hands tighter and tighter until his scalp ached. "Are you— Are you even still here?" _Or have you abandoned me, too?_

The minutes crawled by as Kylo sat there, curled in on himself. He had never felt so completely and utterly alone.

His door annunciator buzzed sharply. The sound was followed almost immediately by the quick rap of knuckles on durasteel. Kylo leapt to his feet. He scrambled to slide Darth Vader’s helmet back into its black velvet bag and tucked it hastily into the hiding place at the back of his closet.

The annunciator rang again, twice this time, followed by another series of knocks. Kylo didn’t bother to call out. He put his mask on with a roll of his eyes then opened the door.

"General Organa," he said in tones of mock-surprise, as if it could have been anyone else. "You’re early."

His mother barely glanced at him. She turned away to look down the hall. Her foot tapped impatiently, and the nervous gesture made her red jeweled earring wink under the fluorescents.

"Something’s come up," she said.

"And you’re rescheduling me?" Kylo couldn’t hide the bite in his words.

"Of course not," Leia scoffed. "Not as long as you still know how to walk and talk at the same time."

She didn’t wait for an answer before she pivoted on her heel and marched away, her boots thudding against the metal floor.

Kylo locked his door, then strode after her. Despite her significantly shorter legs, his mother was surprisingly hard to catch up to. For a moment, Kylo felt like he was a child on Hosnian Prime, chasing his mother through the senatorial complex as she bustled from one meeting to another.

When he finally reached her side, Leia quickened her pace even further.

"Well?" she demanded. "Have you made your decision?"

Kylo wavered. He tried to picture himself in the heart of the temple, finally receiving Darth Vader’s orders from beyond the grave, but all he could see was Poe’s face, hate-filled and horrified, the way it had looked when Kylo violated his mind.

He imagined seeing that look again as the bond tightened like a stranglehold on their minds; imagined the two of them stuck together, doomed to a life of squabbling and resentment. Poe would want to escape, would want to be free, but every time he flew away, the bond would pull and pull until he snapped back like a rubber band, and every time he left Kylo would _hurt_ , and it would never get easier, not until one of them—

_Stop. Don’t think about that._

Leia was looking at him expectantly. Kylo gnawed on his lip.

"If I do go, I have one condition."

She narrowed her eyes. "Which is?"

"I want you to let Lieutenant L’ulo take Commander Dameron’s place."

"Do you?"

"The lieutenant is a decorated war veteran. I think he’s perfectly capable of completing this mission."

"Oh, he's capable," Leia agreed, "but he’s not the best. Poe is."

Kylo opened his mouth and then shut it again. He struggled to find the right words. "Well, that may be. However…"

They rounded the corner and a junior officer came rushing forward, her datapad extended. "General Organa. I have a message for you."

His mother didn’t miss a step. She took the datapad and read over it with a furrowed brow. The junior officer jogged at their side, giving Kylo a wide berth.

Leia signed the datapad with a thumbprint and then handed it back. "Tell Admiral Statura I’m on my way to the control room."

"Yes, General!" The girl scurried away. Leia watched her go with a cloudy look.

Kylo tried again. "General, I really believe—"

Leia silenced him with a raised hand. She glanced around the hall and then tugged him through the nearest door.

They found themselves in a makeshift sleeping quarters crammed so full of bunk beds it was like a maze. Though the room smelled overcrowded and musky, it was empty now except for a single recruit who gawked at them openly. Leia jerked a thumb toward the door, and the recruit leapt up from his mattress, yanked his boots on, and fled the room.

Leia shoved Kylo down onto the now empty bed so hard that he bounced with a creak of springs. She paced back and forth in front of him, her mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Listen, Ben," she said finally. "They don’t want me to tell you this, but right now, I don’t give a damn. I need you to understand. _We are losing this war_."

Kylo sat very still. He felt strangely numb, like he’d slipped backward out of his own body.

It shouldn’t have been a shock. On some level, he’d known it was possible, even likely. He should have been glad to hear her finally say it. Knowing the score made it easier to do exactly what he’d asked Grandfather to help him do — choose the next step on his path. It told him who he should ally himself with, if he was smart.

The thought didn’t make him feel any less empty.

There was a long pause, as if Leia was waiting for some kind of answer, but Kylo couldn’t imagine what she wanted him to say. He remained silent.

She made an impatient sound. "Take off that mask and look me in the eyes."

He obeyed her mechanically. She grabbed his face in both of her small hands and tilted it up to examine it.

"We’re losing," she repeated slowly, her eyes searching his. "The ‘something’ that came up? The First Order just overtook our base on Riosa. That’s the second one we’ve lost this month. If things don’t turn around soon, the First Order is going to crush us. That means that I, your uncle, everyone on this base will—"

"I know what it means."

"Then you understand that I need you to make a decision _now._ "

Kylo’s eyes slid away from hers. He stared blankly at her studded earring. It didn’t match the one in her other ear, he realized with a detached sort of curiosity. It was the same style, but the other one had been red, hadn’t it? This one was green.

_Oh_ , Kylo thought from very far away. He knew why.

She couldn’t see the difference. Not anymore. All the color had seeped out of her world two years ago, because that was when _Kylo stood on the bridge and his saber was in his hand and then a sick shrill noise a gasp a hand gentle on his face light seeping out of his eyes as he tipped backward and Kylo wanted to stop it stop everything but it was too late it was always too late—_

"Ben, I’m talking to you!"

Kylo’s eyes snapped back to hers. "What?"

Leia pursed her lips. "You have a chance to help us defeat Snoke, to _save our lives_ , and you—" She gave a bitter little laugh. "Do you even care?"

Kylo gaped at her. Indignation smoldered deep in chest, burning behind his eyes. Again, he opened his mouth to answer her, but he couldn’t squeeze anything out past the lump in his throat.

His mother must have read something in his expression, because she shut her eyes and let out a long, quiet breath. She loosened her grip on his face and crouched down to his level.

"Do you care enough," she amended in a softer voice, "to put aside whatever grudge you have against Poe and get the job done?"

Kylo shifted. The direct eye contact was intensely uncomfortable, but the thought of looking away again made him shudder. "I don’t have a grudge against him."

"Then what?"

"It isn’t a good idea, the two of us working together. Not after…" Kylo trailed off. He cleared his throat. "He hates me."

His mother dropped her hands to give him a light squeeze on the shoulders. Her thumbs smoothed against the base of his neck.

"Well, he can’t hate you _that_ much. He volunteered for this."

Kylo jerked backward. "He _what?_ Why would he do that?"

Leia shrugged. A soft, sad smile tugged at her lips. "Flyboys. Who knows why they do anything?"

She stared at nothing for a long moment, then shook her head.

"That settles it then." She stood and tugged the nonexistent wrinkles out of her clothes. "Your objection is a moot point. Now what do you have to say?"

Kylo glanced down at the mask in his lap with a furrowed brow. The lump in his throat swelled and choked him.

For a desperate moment, he wanted to tell her everything. Maybe, he thought frantically, maybe if he just explained it right, he could make her understand. If anyone could, surely it would be his mother.

He heart hammered in his chest. "I—"

Leia’s comlink went off.

"I’m on my way," she snapped without even listening to the message, then turned back to Kylo. "I need to give them an answer. Are you going or not?" 

Kylo snatched the confession back jealously. What had he been thinking? The truth wouldn’t change Leia’s mind. It would just make her realize how much of a coward Kylo really was.

It was sickening. Kylo was meant to be strong, to carry on Darth Vader’s legacy, but here he was again, hesitating on the precipice of greatness. His mother was right. This was his chance to turn the tide of this war, to hold true power in his hands and to have Darth Vader himself tell him what to do with it.

If he let that slip through his fingers because he was _scared_ , his grandfather would never forgive him.

He’d never forgive _himself_.

Kylo stood, back straight and head up. "I’m going," he said. "I’m ready to complete my mission."

"Good." The tension in Leia’s shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly. "I’ll let the rest of the council know. Poe, too."

Kylo’s stomach churned, but he nodded his agreement. "Of course."

Leia turned and walked towards the door, then she paused. Her hand hovered over the door panel. "Before I do... I promised Poe one thing. That you’d leave his mind alone."

Kylo furrowed his brow. "I wouldn’t—"

"I’m not talking about a mind probe," Leia interrupted, her voice firm. "I mean _nothing_. Not so much as a peek, even if you think he won’t notice."

Kylo thumbed at one of the clasps of his mask. 

"Ben, promise me." 

"I’ll try," he muttered, wanting to add: _I’ve_ been _trying._

Leia scowled at him. "You’d better do more than try. I want you to stay out of his head. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," Kylo said, content to let her take that statement as an agreement. He decided it would be safest to change the subject. "As long as we’re making demands, I want something, too."

"And what would that be?"

"My lightsaber."

Leia’s gave him an incredulous look. "Absolutely not! If you think you’ll be allowed _any_ kind of weapon, you’ve lost your mind."

"We’ll be traveling through First Order territory. I think I deserve some manner of self-protection."

"You’ll have the Force. What better method of self-protection is there?"

"The Force isn’t everything," Kylo reminded her. "If your doctors can come with a way to suppress it, don’t you think the First Order can do the same thing? If they capture me, the best case scenario is that they really _have_ been ordered to kill me on sight."

Leia bit her lip. Her eyebrows drew tight together, and for a moment, Kylo thought he’d won. Then, she shook her head.

"You can appeal to the council, but I’m not speaking to them for you," she said. "Everyone already thinks I’m compromised when it comes to you. They wouldn’t listen to me. "

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Kylo said with a slight smirk.

Leia’s mouth twitched upward. "Not often," she said. Her face went serious again. "But my point still stands."

"And if they say no?"

"Then you’ll just have to rely on Poe’s blaster to protect you." For all that the words sounded flippant, her face remained pensive.

"Commander Dameron’s blaster didn’t…" Kylo’s gaze slid away and snagged on her green earring. He wrenched his eyes back and forced out: "It didn’t protect him from me."

Leia shook her head. "Ben, I doubt you’ll meet anything half as deadly as you are."

_Deadly_ , Kylo repeated in his head.

His right hand twitched reflexively under the remembered weight of his lightsaber, and then he was back on the bridge two years ago, pressing the button to ignite it. He stared into wide, shocked eyes. The pungent smell of sizzling flesh filled his nose as he grit his teeth, leaned in, forced the saber deeper.

_Stop,_ he thought fiercely. _Stop thinking about it._

"You know, you’ll have to face him eventually."

Kylo flinched. "I— What?"

"Poe," Leia elaborated. "You can't avoid what you did to him forever."

"I’m not avoiding anything."

"You almost threw away this mission because you didn’t want to be around him. Don’t think anyone missed that." She folded her arms. "Poe included."

Kylo winced. Had he really been that obvious?

Leia took a tentative step forward. "You know, ignoring the past won’t make it go away. I learned that the hard way. Maybe if I had…" She trailed off with a frown. "How are you supposed to work together if you keep treating him like he has the plague?"

Kylo shrugged sullenly. "I’ve tried telling you it’s a bad idea. What do you expect me to do?"

Leia raised an eyebrow. "You could start by apologizing."

_Apologizing?_ Kylo could have laughed. As far as he was concerned, apologies were less than worthless. They were insulting.

An apology couldn’t undo the past. It wouldn’t take back torture or deceit or death. All it would do was serve as a reminder, an admission, a further point of contention when the best thing for everyone involved was just to move on and try to _forget_.

Besides, there were some things that were unforgivable.

Leia’s comlink chirped again, and she silenced it quickly.

"I have to go." She bit her lip. "Just… think about what I said. It’s your choice."

She left him standing there in the middle of the makeshift barracks. He looked down at the mask still clutched tight in his hand.

She didn’t understand. There was no choice for him to make.


	3. The Ugly Starship

A chilly, pre-dawn wind whipped over the tarmac. Under the heady mixture of grease, fuel, and rubber, the air smelled crisp and fresh. Kylo sucked it in greedily. In all of the frantic preparation of the past week - the debriefings, the training sessions, the nights he’d spent lying awake - it had never occurred to him just how good it would feel to be above-ground again.

He closed his eyes and took a series of deep breaths. As the serum wore off, he could feel the Force filling him slowly, a thin stream trickling into a vast, dry riverbed. Inside, he vibrated with nervous energy. The strap of his bag cut into his shoulder, weighed down by Darth Vader’s helmet, and he clutched it protectively to his side.

He’d expected it to be harder to smuggle the helmet off the base, considering the hell that had been getting it in. The weapons detector they’d run over him hadn’t picked anything up, but he couldn’t shake the anxious, jittery feeling that someone would think to look inside eventually. He tightened his grip on the bag. The sooner he got it safely onto Poe’s ship, the better.

"This way," Leia yelled over the cacophony of flight checks, maintenance droids, and last minute repairs. 

She shot an impatient glare at Major Brance, who insisted on sticking to Kylo’s side despite Leia’s attempts to demur. 

Kylo shook his head. Did Brance really think he was stupid enough to try to escape on-planet? That was ridiculous. Kylo wanted to get the hell off this rock as soon as possible. Thoughts of escape could come later.

He followed his mother across the bustling airstrip. As they passed Black Squadron’s line of starfighters, he kept his eyes stubbornly forward, refusing to acknowledge the withering looks being cast his way. Finally, just beyond Karé Kun’s X-wing, Kylo caught sight of BB-8.

The little droid was zipping around the most dilapidated, cobbled-together starship Kylo had ever seen.

It might have been white once, but now it was a dirty gray, mottled with rust and what appeared to be scorch marks. It was asymmetrical, with a long, tapered fuselage on its right side and an oversized, freighter-style cockpit listing slightly on its left. Large wings were folded down against the fuselage. At their tips, Kylo could see the nubs where the ship’s cannons had been sawed off.

"What _is_ that thing?"

"That would be our ride." Poe rounded the starship, wiping his hands off on a rag. Instead of his flight suit, he wore a pair of denym pants and a loose, soft-looking shirt. He tucked the rag into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Are you seriously wearing the bucket? Thought we were going for discreet."

Kylo’s face felt warm, but he gave no sign that he’d heard the criticism. Instead, he strode forward. Poe stiffened. He tracked Kylo's movements as he circled the ship, taking in the swordlike shape, the remnants of the cockpit gyro stabilization system, the proton-torpedo launcher.

"Is this…" Kylo paused to correct himself. "Was this a B-wing?"

"The fuselage, yeah." Some of the tension in Poe's body seemed to unspool. He tapped the cockpit with his knuckles. "And this baby used to be part of a YT-2400 light freighter. Put ‘em together, and you get something they call a C-wing Ugly. I’m calling her _The Chimera_."

Kylo stooped to look at the spot where the parts had been bolted together. It was slipshod, slightly off center and weighted down by the low caliber turbolasers someone had sloppily attached to the undercarriage as a poor man’s substitute for the lost ion canons. His fingers itched to snatch tools from one of the techs and start fixing everything wrong with the ship, but even with his skill at making impossible things work, it might be a lost cause.

"Where did you _find_ it?"

"Used to belong to a couple of pirates from Darlyn Boda. I helped them out; they donated this to the Resistance. Kind of a ‘thank you’ gift."

Kylo snorted. Some gift. At least he’d gotten it for free.

"Tell me you’re not actually going to try to fly this thing."

Poe cocked an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because it’s not a ship. It’s flying garbage."

"Well, if you wanna get technical, she’s two ships." Poe grinned roguishly, and Kylo felt his stomach flutter. "Don’t worry. In my hands, she’ll handle like a dream."

Again, Kylo’s face went hot. Thank the Maker the mask hid the stupid expression he could feel creeping across his face.

"Just make sure it doesn’t disintegrate in atmo," he sniped.

"She’ll get the job done." Poe waved him off. "More importantly, she’ll be subtle."

"Subtle," Kylo repeated dubiously.

"Yeah. I mean, who’d expect a Resistance pilot to be traveling through the Unknown Regions in this?"

Well, Kylo couldn’t argue with that.

"I have to say, I share his concern," Brance spoke up. "This is too rash. There must be a safer option."

"Not one we have on hand," Poe said. "Look, I know she’s not pretty, but she’s our best shot at flying in under the radar. This will work." 

He looked to Leia for help.

"I think it’s a fine idea," she said. "It _is_ rash, but caution never has won a war. Besides, I’d expect nothing else out of Commander Dameron."

She directed a knowing gaze at Poe, her lips twitching upward, and he smiled back at her. Kylo was painfully aware that he’d been left out of some private joke.

Brance frowned. "Well, it’s your decision, General Organa."

Leia raised her eyebrows. "Yes, it is. Now, Poe, I need to go over some last minute details with you. Can I have a moment?"

Poe blinked but was quick to answer, "Yes, ma’am." 

"Major Brance, could you…" She cut her eyes at Kylo. 

Brance nodded briskly. "Certainly, General."

Kylo glowered at her back until she and Poe disappeared behind a stack of packing crates. Did she really think he needed a babysitter? She was as ridiculous as Brance was.

He turned and grimaced. _The Chimera_ loomed over him, a wall of filthy metal. To Kylo, it felt like staring at the outside of a prison.

Brance looked between Kylo and the ship. He shrugged. "I tried."

Kylo growled. He clutched Vader’s mask tightly to his side and stalked toward the entry ramp. 

"Hey, Solo!" Karé Kun called out over the din.

Kylo very pointedly didn’t turn around. Umbrage broiled inside of him. It was one thing for his mother and Doctor D’Paht to insist on calling him by that name. It was a very different thing to have to hear it from Poe’s squadron of laserbrains.

"Solo, I’m talking to you," she snapped, closer now.

Kylo felt her reach out to grab at him, and he turned around abruptly. She took a wary step back, snatching her hand out of his reach.

Behind her, the rest of Black Squadron stood in a line, radiating hostility. BB-8 whirled around at their feet and fixed Kylo with what he assumed was the droid’s equivalent of a dirty look. 

Kylo cast a longing glance over his shoulder at _The Chimera_. He planted his feet, fingers twitching at his sides. "What?"

Kun put her hands on her hips. "You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve talking to Poe like that."

"Like _what_?"

"Like he’s your chauffeur droid and not in charge of this mission. Like you don’t owe him some damn respect." Her voice went brittle. "Like you didn’t do what you did to him."

Temmin Wexley reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. He glared at Kylo. "Hey, it’s not too late for you to back out. Think a lot of people’d be relieved to hear it."

Kylo nearly laughed in his face. "If you truly believe that, you’re vastly underestimating the importance of this mission."

"We understand that the mission is important," L’ulo said, "but _you’re_ underestimating the importance of our commander." 

Kylo folded his arms. "Your commander can speak for himself."

"Look," Jessika Pava said, jabbing a finger at him, "just leave him alone, all right?"

"That’s going to be hard to do from inside the same starship."

"You know what she means," Kun snarled. "If you hurt him—"

"I’m not going to do _anything_ to him."

" _If you hurt him again_ ," she pressed on, "we will light your ass up. We don’t give a pfassk who your mommy is." 

Behind her, the squadron fixed him with identical cold, hard looks. BB-8 extended a telescoping arm and the electricity crackled threateningly.

Kylo put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

"I’m not going to hurt him," he said, more softly than he’d intended. "You have my word, whatever that’s worth to you."

Kun’s lips formed a long, thin line. Her eyes darted over his mask as if trying to read his features. She opened her mouth to say something more, but she didn’t get the chance.

"Hey, guys," Poe interrupted. "We doing some team bonding over here?"

Kylo wheeled around to see him striding toward them. Black Squadron took a few steps away from Kylo, their eyes all darting in different directions. BB-8 retracted his telescoping arm with a high-pitched bleep.

"Man, kinda wish I’d been invited to this party. Feels like I missed out." Poe’s grin was so cheery it nearly looked authentic. He shouldered casually between his friends and Kylo. "Of course, we should probably be prepping our fighters, not standing around chatting, don’t you think?"

Black Squadron exchanged glances. 

"Yeah," Wexley said finally. "I mean, yes, Commander."

The others followed his lead and retreated toward their starfighters. Only Kun held back. She widened her eyes at Poe and jerked her head toward Kylo in some kind of silent communication. Poe shook his head, but she repeated the motion. He sighed.

Turning to Kylo, he gestured expansively at _The Chimera_. "Your chariot awaits, your highness."

Kylo didn’t dignify that with a response. He tilted his chin up and stomped away toward the ship, nearly mowing down Major Brance in the process.

"Poe, listen," Kun started. "He…"

Her voice trailed off, too quiet for Kylo to hear over the noise. Against his better judgement, he paused with one foot on the entry ramp and strained his ears to listen.

"I told you, Karé," he heard Poe murmur. "I can fight my own battles."

Kylo’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. He hadn’t been aware that he was a battle Poe needed to fight. 

He glanced back over his shoulder, then paused and squinted. From this angle, it was obvious that Poe had something bulky inside of his jacket. Something he hadn’t had before he’d left with Leia.

_The Force suppressant hypos,_ Kylo thought.

The cold, phantom feeling of the serum filling his veins made him shudder. He reached inside of himself, touching the Force reflexively. It was still there, thrumming inside of him. Waiting to be used.  


His throat tightened at the thought of losing that power, that _connection_ again. If Poe tried to stick him with one of those hypos, he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt Poe, and he’d meant it. But if he had to choose between Poe and the Force…

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

Poe glanced over at Kylo, perhaps sensing his gaze. Kylo turned swiftly away. He strode up the entry ramp. It clanked metallically with every step, shuddering under his boots in a way that was quite frankly worrying.

"Wait a minute," Brance said, just as Kylo was ducking through the hatch. "That bag."

Kylo clamped down on a wince. "What about it?" 

"It needs to be checked before you go aboard."

"They scanned it for weapons before I left the base. You can ask the general."

"Well, I can’t let you take it on board without a manual check." Brance raised his hand and crooked his fingers toward himself. "Give it to me."

Kylo scowled down at him. "That isn’t necessary."

Brance narrowed his eyes and set his jaw tight. "Hand over the bag."

Kylo pinched his lips together. His mind raced. He needed to put a stop to this now before Brance started to draw attention.

Brance marched up the entry ramp. "Ben, give me the bag _now_."

He grabbed bag’s strap and tugged it sharply. Kylo jerked backward, but Brance didn’t budge. He yanked at the bag again, trying to pry it from Kylo’s bloodless fist. 

"Fine," Kylo hissed. "If you insist on making things difficult."

He reached deep inside of himself and reeled in that thin stream of the Force that flowed through him. When he touched it, it expanded, seemed to fill him up to the brim, thrummed under his skin. He opened up his mind and pushed it outward. He prodded Brance’s mental defenses, looking for a hole, a crack.

_There._

Brance dropped the bag and drew back, his eyes wide, but it was too late. Kylo sharped the Force to a point and wormed his way inside Brance’s mind.

"You've already checked my bag," he said. "It was all clear."

Brance stared at him for a long moment, frozen in place. His eyes blinking furiously, mouth working like a landed fish as his mind scrambled to shake Kylo off, to push him out. Brance was far from weak minded, and on anyone else, his attempts to fight off the intrusion might have worked. Unfortunately for him, this was Kylo’s area of expertise. He’d always had a talent for controlling minds that weren’t his own.

He pressed harder, plucked at Brance’s thoughts like a harp’s string until he found one that played the right note. " _You’ve already checked my bag_ ," he repeated in a low voice. " _It was all clear._ "

A long pause, and then Brance parroted, "I’ve already checked your bag. It was all clear."

" _You’re going to return to the base and forget this ever happened._ "

"I’m going to return to the base and forget this ever happened."

"Good." Kylo pulled out, slipped back into his own mind, and erected his defenses. He waved a hand toward the entrance to the hanger. "Get going."

Brance turned on his heel and walked away, as stiff and upright as a toy soldier. Kylo watched him go with a feeling of disproportionate victory. He allowed himself a smirk.

Then, he caught Poe’s eyes. 

Kylo’s heart contracted as Poe stared at him across the tarmac. His face was drawn and suspicious in a way that made Kylo’s nerves prickle. He felt like someone had thrown a bucket of freezing water over him.

Poe was too far away to have heard anything, Kylo told himself. His conversation with Brance might have looked suspicious, but it was nothing Poe could prove. That didn’t stop his pulse from racing at the other man’s dark, unbroken stare. 

"Pilots, gather ‘round!" Leia shouted.

Poe finally looked away. When he and Kun jogged obediently across the tarmac to join their fellow pilots, Kylo exhaled heavily. He fought the urge to lean against the ship for support.

He needed to deposit his grandfather’s helmet somewhere safe and then take a minute to collect his thoughts, come up with some cover story for what just happened. He moved to step through _The Chimera_ ’s hatch.

"Ben!" Leia called. "You, too!" 

Kylo looked between her and the open hatch, his teeth clenched tight. He pounded his fist against one of the hydraulic cylinders, then turned and stomped down the ramp. 

"Our probe droid has already scouted out the best route to the temple," Leia was telling the pilots when Kylo sidled up to her. "You’ll find that noted on your maps."

They nodded, pulling out their holopads to scrutinize a topographic map of Asadal.

Kylo’s brow furrowed. This was the first he’d heard of a probe droid or a map.

"I’ll need a copy of that."

"You can share Commander Dameron’s."

"A _personal_ copy. There’s always a chance we could be separated." 

"Don’t worry, buddy," Poe spoke up. "I won’t run off on you." 

Kylo glared at him. He looked back at his mother imploringly. 

"Don’t get separated," she ordered, clicking off her own holopad with a snap and sliding it into her pocket. 

Kylo bit the inside of his cheek. Earned or not, the distrust stung.

"You’ll check in every two hours while on-planet," Leia continued. "You miss two check ins, and we’re coming in after you." 

"Yes, ma’am," Poe said.

Kylo, unsure if this was directed at him as well, nodded. 

"Now, I want you all to understand…" Leia drew herself up, tucked her hands behind her back, and squared her feet. 

Kylo knew that look. That was her inspirational speech look. He flicked his gaze upward, repressing a sigh.

Whatever rousing words Leia had to share, Kylo didn’t hear them. He’d grown up listening to his mother make impassioned speeches. He’d learned how to tune them out. Besides, it didn’t matter. The gist was always the same: ‘Ours is a noble cause. The galaxy hangs in the balance, and what I’m asking you to do is vital to our success.’

Right. Whatever it took to convince idiots to die for your political ideals. 

And the pilots really did seem convinced. When Leia finished her speech, they saluted, practically brimming with fervor. Their eyes sparkled zealously. 

Kylo recognized the emotion there. He’d felt it when he’d read Poe’s mind. His passion. His loyalty. His absolute surety that, if he died for the Resistance, it would be worth it.

Kylo couldn’t help pitying them. Putting that much hope in something as tenuous as the Resistance was profoundly foolish. What would they do when it all came crashing down? What would _Poe_ do? 

It would destroy him. Kylo could tell him that much, if he thought Poe would listen.

Kylo had spent years chasing his own so-called noble cause, but even he had never believed as fully as Poe believed in the Resistance. He’d always had his doubts, hidden deep down inside where the Supreme Leader couldn’t find them. 

Still, he’d had faith. He’d told himself that what he was doing was right until he’d almost believed it, and when the Supreme Leader had told him that he could fix all of his self doubt, all of his weakness, if he only got rid of that call to the light, he had—

He’d done what he thought necessary.

But the Supreme Leader had been wrong. No, more than that, he had _lied_ , had let Kylo believe that he could free himself from pain with the swipe of a saber when the truth was far worse. 

The truth was that he would never be free, no matter what he did. The weakness inside of him was rooted so deep that he’d never be able to dig it out, and there was no amount of blood that could cover it. Or if there was, Kylo couldn’t bear to try. Not again.

In his darker moments, he wondered if it had all been lies. If maybe there was no such thing as a noble cause, after all.

Kylo darted a glance down at the bag, as if Grandfather could have heard his wayward thought.

He shook his head, tightened his grip. Of course noble causes existed. Kylo had one. He had a destiny, a calling. Even if everything the Supreme Leader led him to believe proved false, that was true.

It had to be.

"Dismissed," Leia said, jolting him from his thoughts. 

The pilots left, heading toward their prepped fighters to complete the last minute checks and prepare for lift off. _Finally_. Kylo moved to follow Poe toward their ship.

Leia caught him by the elbow. "Not you."

Kylo groaned under his breath. He watched with envy as Poe climbed aboard _The Chimera_. 

"What is it?"

Leia pursed her lips. "I want to get a few things straight before you leave," she said. "You’re going on this mission because I vouched for you. I told the counsel they could trust you. I told _Poe_ he could trust you. Don’t make me regret that."

_I didn’t ask you to do any of that_ , Kylo thought. _I never promised you could trust me._

He didn’t say it. Instead, he titled his head slightly, a gesture that could have meant anything. She seemed to take it as an affirmative.

"I want you to stay close to Poe," Leia continued. "That ‘measure of self protection’ you wanted? He’s it. If you get in over your head, there’s no shame in asking him for help."

Kylo scoffed. "If _I_ need protection, I don’t think he’ll be able to do much."

"Try him." 

Kylo looked back at _The Chimera._ He could see Poe in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls, his dark hair shielding his eyes. His brown skin glowed under the lights of the cockpit. An unwelcome, warm feeling enveloped him, making his chest tighten and his nerves tingle. 

If they found themselves in danger, he didn’t think he’d be asking Poe for help. He’d be too busy ripping apart whoever got in his way.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

Leia bit her lip. "No." 

She took a step forward and wrapped her arms tight around his middle. Kylo froze. It had been years, a lifetime since anyone had held him. He couldn’t remember what to do with his hands. His heart raced under the press of his mother’s cheek.

"Promise me you won’t run away," she murmured.

Kylo swallowed painfully. He couldn’t bring himself to answer. He skimmed his hands across her back, not quite touching her. 

Leia drew back and grabbed a fistful of his robes, her face grim. 

"You _come home_ , do you hear me?" she said, giving him a shake. Her damp eyes glittered in the lights of the tarmac.

Kylo looked away, squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed against an emotion he couldn’t name, one that threatened to overflow. He’d said this goodbye before. His mother was older now, smaller and sadder, but this didn’t feel any different. She was still sending him away, even after all this time. He wanted to be angry at that, but he couldn’t find it in himself. 

Leia let her forehead fall against his chest helplessly and added in a very quiet voice, "Please, Ben. I already lost you once."

Kylo felt his chin tremble. His shoulders slumped forward. 

"I won’t," he promised. "I won’t run away."

He hated himself saying that. Hated that he’d given in. Hated that it was probably a lie. 

It took several long moments before Leia let him go. She reached up and cupped his neck. Her fingers fumbled with the clasps of his helmet. Kylo shook her hands off and took a wary step back.

Leia made a displeased sound. She caught him by the hand, and her eyes flickered over his mask like she was looking right through it to memorize his face.

"Ben…" She trailed off, her expression unsure. 

For a second, Kylo thought she might have changed her mind. He thought, stupidly, that she might tell him not to leave, say she wanted him here and damn the galaxy. 

Her expression trembled. She breathed out quietly and forced a small smile.

"May the Force be with you," she said and let him go.

So he left. As he climbed up the entry ramp and onto the ship _,_ he couldn’t help thinking: _Maybe this is the last time._

He hadn’t expected that thought to fill him with so much regret.

"Ready to go?" Poe slipped a switch on the console, not quite looking at him.

Kylo dropped the weight of Darth Vader’s helmet onto the copilot’s seat. It seemed to have grown heavier somehow, like a millstone around his neck.

"Yes," he said. "I’m ready." 

He cast one last look at his mother, and then the hatch closed with a hiss, sealing him inside.


End file.
